


Fine

by theosymphany



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Angst, Fitting In, Gen, Inferiority Complex, Rookies days, imposter syndrome, reflections
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theosymphany/pseuds/theosymphany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>F for failure.<br/>That's what Finn tells himself a lot. The frustration of fitting in, fighting for his place, fearing for his future. Thankfully, there is always more than one facet to one's frame of mind. On a frosty December night, a friend offers him solace in fellowship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Nimrod262 for the beta and edits.

_I’ve had enough!_

Finn made a poor excuse and slipped away from the rowdy night. _Screw that drinking. Screw that socialising. Screw trying to fit in somewhere I don't really belong._ He never had. Probably never would. How did drinking yourself stupid prove you were a man?

He pulled the collar up on his jacket and hunched his shoulders to protect himself from the wind as he stepped out from the bar. Feeling the chill, He put his hands in the jacket pockets to keep them warm. _Dumbass Finn, forgot your gloves again_ , he chided himself. Just like in training, he always forgets something. The rest of the team seemed so professional, so confident; well, when they weren't pissed. Tonight Finn wasn't any of those things. If he hated anyone it was himself. _Dumbass!_

It was a long walk. He didn’t realise how badly he had been clenching his fists and jaw until he got back inside the enlisted men's barracks and found they were both positively aching.

He slipped quietly into the barrack room, knowing the other occupants wouldn't be back until they were slurred and intoxicated from their drinks. He was glad that it was just him; that he would have maybe an hour or two alone with his thoughts. He fished out his heavy combat jacket from the metal locker and rolled it up into a bundle. That would be his makeshift cushion in the basic quarters. Finn shut the door, kicked off his shoes and turned out the bunk light; climbing into the narrow, rickety bed. The little corner was the only place that he could call home. He crawled beneath the thin blanket which he threw over his face; clutching his jacket in his arms.

He sighed as his head hit the pillow. He didn’t know how he could go on. He had made it this far. Yet he never felt he was good enough.

 _I can be tough. Suck it up Finn._ He told himself. _I just need a bit of time to get over it._

The BSAA could be so unbelievably lonely, especially when he felt he didn't fit in.

His family and friends were ecstatic that he'd got on the short list for Alpha Team at the BSAA.

“Alpha. It means the best right? Best Captain? Best conditions? Promotion in the works? You get to boss others around and stay out of danger?”

Sadly, the military didn't work that way. He wished family and friends would think twice about what they uttered and presumed about his life. He joined because he believed in the cause; to fight Bioterrorism. He’s a demolition expert and medic, he’d like to think sometimes he does a half decent job at both. No demolition expert ever served from behind a desk. Nor a medic. Ever.

“Oh, just tell others to do your work for you. Let them stick their necks out. Just suck up to the boss and please him. Leave the dangerous stuff to the qualified.”

It frustrated him no end how the ones who yapped the most about how he should do his job would be the last to sign up and serve in the military. Teamwork doesn’t work that way. Missions don’t work that way. Everyone had to pull their weight. They were a band of brothers. Many times he had to defend his unit, his organisation in his conversations; simply because civilians couldn't understand the dangers of frontline bioterrorism. Of course, most things were classified. People still thought all the BSAA did was check suspicious mail and packages, make a drug bust here and there, run lab tests. It wasn’t his place to correct them. It was a BSAA taboo to discuss such matters.

What the BSAA got up to at the frontline would have shattered their ideas of bioterrorism and personal safety forever.

Alpha Team was a tough gig. He was already suffering a heavy dose of imposter syndrome; never believing that he matched up to the unit's image. _Finn the fake_ he said to himself. His current experiences only confirmed it. He’d never be as good as the others were. He was awkward at every turn, never really finding his feet, clumsily stumbling about to find his place in an already tightly knit team. And always he was that one step behind. Even out at the social events, surrounded by fellow enlisted men he still felt empty on the inside. Maybe he thought about things too much. Maybe he was just that much more sensitive to other’s perception of himself.

At lonely times like this it was hard not to tell himself that Alpha Team could have used someone more competent. He was taking someone else’s spot. Someone who could have supported Andy better. Someone Carl and Ben might have trusted to actually watch over their backs. Someone else who could bring more renown and respect to Alpha Team; if such a thing were possible.

It didn’t help that he was also in the presence of the greats. He never truly felt he belonged in such highly esteemed company.

His Lieutenant, Piers Nivans for instance. The young rising star and model soldier of the North American branch. Golden ace of Alpha Team. He shone so brilliantly that his light almost drowned out all others.

It was always about Piers. He knew only too well that Piers had joined Alpha Team aged 23, only a year older than himself. That he was so well adjusted he had instantly become a major asset; an integral part of the team. The perfect complement to Captain Redfield’s unique style of leadership.

Of course, if Piers was the brightest star, the legendary Captain shone like the midday sun. One of the Original Eleven who founded the BSAA, and affectionately known as 'Dadfield' around the base. He watched over all the men, perpetually sneaking out of his supposed desk job to volunteer himself and his team to go behind enemy lines. He was just as impressive in real life as the stories pictured him. Broadly built, strong as a bear and yet as kind and gentle as a father. Finn swore he could feel the warmth radiating off his body when he got close. He was just that awesome. Finn stuttered and flushed whenever the Captain spoke to him, and he committed to memory every word said.

And as for himself? Finn felt like a sixth wheel. He was no sniper. His proficiency with guns was average at best, and he always scored below the records of everyone else in Alpha. He knew none of them could count on him to take a shot or watch their backs when it mattered.

He was a demolitions guy. His training and specialty was so different that nobody in the unit really understood what he did. Or rather, what he could do, given the right resources and confidence.

"Finn, come blow this up."

"Finn, get over here you slow poke."

"Finn, put your ass to use and haul this thing out of the way."

"Finny boy, pass this to the Captain."

He didn’t mind running the errands. It was almost good enough simply to be remembered. That he was useful for something; even if it was just passing paper. He would put on his silly grin and perform the task; but deep inside he felt useless. Nobody trusted him to shoot. To take on a BOW. It was probably a good thing. They’d be cleaning his guts off the ground and shipping him back in a box, if he lasted that long.

All he could do was tag explosives on gates and doors, then get the hell out of the way of the big shots as they do the heavy lifting and try not to stumble over his own feet.

If a robot could do his job he’d surely be the first to be replaced. He was the most expendable. There were always ways to get around an obstacle. There weren’t many ways to get around a fight.

He sighed. His performance was up for review at the end of the month. He probably wouldn’t make the cut and get shipped back to the army. It would still look good on his file to have done a short secondment in the BSAA perhaps, but that was it. A work experience.

 _I’m not cut out for this._ He sighed. _I’m no Lieutenant Nivans._ The more he compared their records and ability the worse he felt about himself.

He tried to snipe, honestly did. Even in the army they were trained in all classes of weapons. It wasn’t like he couldn’t hold a rifle ready. He could. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t get his shots close to the target. He could.

It just took him way longer than everyone else.

"Finny the slow poke. Finn the guy who missed the beat. Flimsy Finn. Finniky Finn. Fuckin’ Finn." Those were the accolades he earned in his previous units.

 _What do I want to do?_ He questioned himself. _Have a mediocre stint in the military and get out. Go back to flipping burgers or operating farm equipment with his uncle? Or give it his all in the line of duty? Make a small difference in some country stricken with Bioterrorism?_

It’s only natural for every soldier to have a strange kind of morbid curiosity in being remembered as a hero. Finn was ready to give his life. He just wished it would be in a worthy manner. Maybe he would be like those heroes in movies who would strap themselves with explosives and take down the bad guy with them, so that the Captain and his sniper would live to fight another day.

It wasn’t like Alpha Team were super close to him, but it was all he had. He pondered the scenarios in his head. Yes, on the front line, he would be willing to lay his life down for any one of his teammates. He knew they all would for each other. Except for him. He was expendable. He had made peace with that. He knew his place. He wasn’t worth their lives. They were worth his. He just wanted his death to be heroic, given the circumstances.

Still, he wished no harm to ever fall on Captain Redfield and Lieutenant Nivans. They were good men; good leaders. Good soldiers who had continued to made a huge difference in too many parts of the world. To them it might be another mission completed. But to the town or village or country they just saved, it meant getting a future back where there was none. He had seen enough of the thank you notes addressed to the Captain when he was assigned to mailroom duty. He wanted to make a difference like Chris did one day. To sleep at night knowing his existence had changed someone’s life for the better, however intangibly.

He was prepared to die protecting his Captain.

A tear fell on his pillow. Would the Captain remember such a sacrifice? Would Piers?

Who would give him that chance? He’d probably be chopped at the end of the month anyway. Maybe 2013 would see him as a civilian. Sure, he might not get to blow anything up at McDonalds or on the farm; life would be dull. But at least he wouldn’t be a liability.

The desire of a soldier to serve with his comrades. To protect the weak.

That’s all Finn really wanted.

* * *

 

The door jolted open, and his roommate’s footsteps approached the bed.

“Finn, are you there?” It was the voice of Ben Airhart, probably the kindest and most tolerant of his teammates. His voice was missing the expected drunken slur of a Friday night.

Finn pretended to be asleep. They’d only be dragging him back for more drinking, more pranking anyway.

The door closed. The figure sat at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, I know you’re in there. It’s alright, it’s just me.” Ben said, taking off his jacket as he warmed up in the room from the winter chill outside.

“Finn, I know you’re feeling down. The guys didn’t want to push you tonight. I just want you to know that we’re here for you.”

Finn peered out from under the blanket. Ben’s face was flushed as the blood began to circulate again; slowly warming his ears and cheeks. It was a kind face, the sort of face a friend should have. He would have had to walk back from the bar instead of catching a ride with others. He'd done all that . . . for him?

“I’m ok Ben, you shouldn’t have cut your night short for me. You could be having another drink with the rest of the guys . . .” He'd only begun to talk and already he was being apologetic.

“It’s ok.” Ben adjusted his scarf and gave a light flick at the figure on the bed; curled up in the foetal position. Finn didn't react. He guessed the rookie was either cold or feeling incredibly lonely, probably both. Ben was glad he'd come back early, he knew what it felt like to be the new boy. He remembered how lonely he'd felt, until he teamed up with Carl. “You wanna talk about it buddy? You might not believe it Finn but I struggled at first like you. Don't beat yourself up about it OK? Alpha's a family, we look out for each other. No one ever needs to be alone.”

Silence. Finn didn’t know where to start. His thoughts were in such a mess he didn’t know how to unravel them, let alone articulate them.

“Look Finn, if you’re worried about your review at the end of the month don't be. It’s gonna be fine, trust me.” A hand squeezed his shoulder gently. Finn was grateful for the human contact.

“How do you get . . . to feel you belong . . ?” his voice faltered, he couldn't find the right words.

“Spend enough time doing it and it just. . . rubs off on you? You’re doing great. You have skills none of us have. You might not feel it, but we do need you. Captain can only punch through so many walls before his fists hurt; and even LT can't blast a gate down with that rifle of his.” He gave a chuckle.

“But . . . I suck so much compared to you all . . .” Finn pulled the blanket off his head to make eye contact with his teammate.

“Don’t you worry about it Finn. It’s hopeless trying to compare yourself to the Captain or to LT. They would give anyone an inferiority complex.”

“But even compared to you guys. I suck at shooting; I’m always last in the drills. I’m always stuffing up the orders and getting you into trouble . . .”

“That’s the whole point of drills and training, to get you in shape. We were all like you when we started. Trust me. After spending more time with the Captain and LT you’ll pick it up.”

“. . . but . . .”

“You’ve made it this far, haven’t you?” Another squeeze on his shoulder, and Finn felt moisture rising to his eyes.

“I’m so scared . . .”

“It’s only human Finn. So you’re more sensitive and sentimental than the average soldier pretends to be. I get it, we all do. You care a lot more about everyone in your heart. You care about feelings and emotions. It’s ok Finn. Stop thinking those things make you weak, they don't. Quite the reverse, I wish I had them. They are the things that make you strong as a soldier.”

Finn sobbed in relief. It was great to have some confirmation that he wasn’t a complete failure.

“Listen, Captain always says this - ‘Our emotions are what makes us human’. He believes that soldiers are men first, and trained fighters second. If we were as relentless and heartless as machines, what difference would there be between us and a BOW? It may be a bit of tough love on Alpha. And I know Andy may piss you off now and again. But it isn't all so bad Finn. You'd be missed if you transferred out. Believe me.”

“Really?”

 _Missed?_ Finn thought to himself. That would be a luxury. He'd thought they would be eager to rid themselves of a liability; of a burden.

“We’re a team." Ben continued. "Of course none of us can stop a BOW with the raw power of the Captain, or the effortless sniping of the LT. But we have different, complementary skills. With the Captain there, none of us would ever really get into trouble. And if we did I know I can count on you to help bring us out in one piece. That's teamwork Finn; and you’re just as much a part of Alpha as any of us.”

Finn was stunned into silence for a long moment. He swallowed hard.

“I’ll do anything I can for you guys. I swear it!”

“Don’t fret it.” Ben ruffled Finn's hair. “You’ll be just fine. Fine Finn. You ever like the sound of that?”

“If you say it like that . . .”

Finn slept more soundly that night than he had in a long while. His faced wreathed in a silly grin. _There might already be an ABC in Alpha,_ he told himself as he drifted off, b _ut being an F isn’t so bad . . ._

_. . . In fact, it’s fine._


End file.
